


could you maybe kiss me (decimate the stars)

by mutedstar



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Drabble, F.T.Willz, Famous Gerard, Fan Frank, M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:40:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23237848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mutedstar/pseuds/mutedstar
Summary: The only thing between him and My Chem is a table. The stripes of Frank’s shirt blur in his peripherals. He takes one, two, three shaky steps forward“H-hi, Gerard,” Frank stutters, finally raising his face to make eye contact, cheeks getting even hotter.“Hey,” Gerard tosses back, just as cool as his stage presence, put together and confident.
Relationships: Frank Iero/Gerard Way
Comments: 15
Kudos: 91





	could you maybe kiss me (decimate the stars)

**Author's Note:**

> hi!!! cute tiny lil thing (that i’ll probably continue !!! i have some cuter ideas too) ENTIRELY written based off this AWESOME little comic https://twitter.com/sexy1pigeon/status/1241083220424380416?s=21 !!!! go show it some love

Before Frank knows it, he’s next in line. 

He can feel his cheeks already blazing red, heating up at just the sheer idea of speaking to his favorite band. My Chemical Romance— he’s going to meet My Chemical Romance. 

He’s going to meet Gerard Way. Gerard is going to see Frank’s face, and Frank’s going to have to tell him his name, and Frank’s going to have to ask him to sign the last page of his poem book—

And then he’s right there. The only thing between him and My Chem is a table. The stripes of his shirt blur in his peripherals. He takes one, two, three shaky steps forward, running an uncertain hand through his hair. 

“H-hi, Gerard,” Frank stutters, finally raising his face to make eye contact, cheeks getting even hotter. 

“Hey,” Gerard tosses back, just as cool as his stage presence, put together and confident. He sits with his signature half-smile-half-smirk, pen between his index and second finger, looking Frank right in the eye. 

“Um,” Frank stutters. “Uh,” 

Gerard smile gets even wider, if it’s possible. It’s encouraging, and looks genuine, and Frank finally spits out what he wants to say, the words he feels when he listens to their music, when Gerard’s voice is the only thing that can ground him. 

“I’m your biggest fan,” Frank spits out. “This band is everything to me. Can— can you sign the last page of this?” He thrusts out his poetry book, brain just as jumbled a mess as the words that come spilling off of his tongue. 

“Sure,” Gerard says, taking the book gently, voice just like it sounds in studio recordings, rough mixes, live in concert. “What’s your name?” He asks, looking back up at Frank, uncapping the pen with long, ink-stained fingers. 

“Oh,” Frank starts. “Um, Frank.”

One side of Gerard’s mouth curls up even more, a smoker’s smile, even more attractive than before, more attractive than the times Frank’s seen him onstage, the pictures and videos he’s seen. 

He raises the book so Frank can’t see what he’s writing, and the F.T. Willz on the cover swims in Frank’s vision. 

Gerard finishes with an artist’s flourish, snapping the book shut gently and holding it out to Frank, chipped black nail polish gleaming in the fluorescents. 

“Here you go,” he says warmly, letting go of the book when Frank takes it with two shaky hands, giving Frank a conspiratorial wink. There’s a twinkle in his eye when Frank stutters out a weak, hesitant “Th—Thank you!” and turns to go. 

“You’re welcome!” Gerard calls after him warmly, like he enjoyed meeting Frank, like Frank isn’t just another fan in a line of thousands. 

Frank opens the book as soon as he’s out of sight of the table, flipping to the last page. 

Right above Gerard’s curling, whimsical signature, in his blocky, angled letters, next to a bold XOXO, it says,

“You’re really cute, Frankie.” 

The fire on Frank’s cheeks reignites itself. He presses his face into the open pages, feels like maybe he can still feel the heat of Gerard’s hand smoothing down the paper. 

He backtracks and sneaks a glance back around the corner, over the heads of hundreds of other kids waiting for their chance. 

Gerard meets his eyes over the head of the kid he’s talking to and raises his hand in a wave, with a cigarette smirk only for Frank.

**Author's Note:**

> i know i havent written or posted anything in a really long time i’m sorry :(( i’ve been struggling recently but!! i’m starting up again so get mf ready <33333


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